


Nachtmusik

by Naqia



Series: Moonlight Sonata [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Infertility, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naqia/pseuds/Naqia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you,” Delly says and for once it is me who does not say it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nachtmusik

**Author's Note:**

> The first part was written for PromptsinPanem on tumblr last year. This is the continuation of Katniss', Delly's and Peeta's story.
> 
> Warning: This story deals with infertility and infidelity!
> 
> Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own The Hunger Games. Never have, never will.
> 
> Thank you Katie for helping me put again and beta-ing this despite the ton of work you already have to do, I cannot thank you often enough! Also thanks to Fremus for pre-reading and her encouraging words whenever I feel insecure about what I write. Love you ladies! And also thank you, lovely reader, for taking a look a look at what I write and all the feedback you have given me for the first part!

This is the first time after the birth of our daughter that Delly and I were actually going out. I’ve had a hard time convincing her that her mother would be okay taking care of our little girl and I am aware that she will still be calling her throughout the evening when she thinks I won’t notice. We’re in our car now, heading off to Madge and Gale’s and, as Delly doesn’t want to speak, I let my mind wander.

It’s been nine month since Hope was born and Delly became a stay at home mom. Hope is adorable with her still toothless smile and her big blue eyes that sparkle every time she giggles. Or how she smells sweet like cinnamon to me and a bit like the caraway oil that Delly rubs on her belly to help her flatulence.

Or how her brows crease slightly when she tries to make sense of some noise or movement and the delighted squeal when she figured it out. Or when she suckles happily on Delly’s breast until her eyes start to flutter and eventually close to sleep for a few minutes rest. Or her saying “babababab” and “mamamam” when she sees either of us. It’s amazing to see her discover her world in our condo bit by bit knowing that she is the centre of our universe and we are lucky to be part of it.

But it’s also been nine months of waking up at least once every night- sometimes every two hours. I don’t dare to leave Delly’s side. I don’t dare to catch some sleep in another room when I’m home, and as much as I love my daughter, sometimes I crave the times when I need to spend the night in another city and get some much needed rest that Delly cannot.

In the hours I can’t fall back to sleep I feel guilty for thinking that way. I also feel guilty for leaving her alone a couple of times a month due to my job. While it is not my fault, it doesn’t help that Delly accuses me of exactly that. I feel guilty that I can’t do much more than taking Hope in the morning so Delly gets a couple of hours of rest until I have to get to work.

I also feel guilty for reaching out to my wife in the middle of the night when she is awake too, caressing her, kissing her neck, trailing a way to her earlobes that once made her wild and now only result in a tired huff. Time and time again I hope that she might have changed her mind. That she wants to be one with me again, but she says she is not ready yet, so I am waiting.

Spooning is the closest we come to physical affection nowadays and even that is always initiated by me. I caress her and tell her how much I love her. I try not to show my disappointment about the fact, that she seems unable to perform the whole sentence out loud. Now and then she tells me “me too”, on other days my declaration is met only with silence and each time it stings. I keep telling myself that Delly does not do this on purpose, she simply doesn’t notice as all her attention is on Hope. I keep telling myself that this normal.

I never forgot fully about Katniss despite everything. Or perhaps because of everything. She has been part of my life for so long and an important one at that. 

The bitter part of my mind tells me I only think about her out of sex deprivation, but deep inside I know that is not true. I still care about Katniss and more than I should. I grew to love her when we were together and the feelings have never faded, only overlapped by my love for my daughter and my wife. I still have difficulty comprehending myself and my infidelity.

Katniss backed me up when Delly couldn’t and that’s a debt I can never pay back. That’s why I can never regret having met her. Though I feel guilty about my infidelity as I know it will hurt Delly if she ever finds out. I hope she never does.

Katniss had been more understanding than I deserved when I finally found the courage and the will to end what we had. With her 23 years she had been braver than I had been. Or her youth was the reason why. I am no fool to believe that it didn’t upset her, but I believe it was easier for her to move on than it was for me. After all she was always taking things easy, saying she was just enjoying life too much to tie herself to someone.

But she had made a commitment to me for months, even knowing she couldn’t keep me.

She had congratulated me and smiled genuinely, whereas I feel that the hurt I am suffering now is what I deserved all along for being so selfish as to want her in my life. 

”You’ll be a great dad,” she had told me, cupping my face with her hands. Only her trembling voice had given her away. Then she had kissed me goodbye. It was sweet and tender; there had been a longing in it that I couldn’t quite forget. Every now and then- and certainly more often than I care to admit to myself- the memory lingered in my mind, painful yet sweet.

For some reason I never had it in me to delete her number, afraid to erase the last bit that I still had of her. I clung to it. Though I shouldn’t want it. Once or twice my fingers had hovered above her alias name in my contacts. Just seeing it gave me feelings and hopes that I have no name for. I wanted to call her, talk to her, and hear her voice again. Especially since it feels like Delly doesn’t give a shit about me. 

In the end I never did hit the call button. I only stared at the screen, reading the alias over and over again, but I simply couldn’t. I ended it because I wanted to be a family and had decided that Katniss had no place in that. It’s been my doing and I have no right to call her anymore. I have to let her go.

I know what I did was right and I figure I shouldn’t still be thinking about her, but I do. I do when I see a dark haired woman similar in appearance. I do in those lonely nights when Delly doesn’t want to cuddle. And I do when I have hurried off to the bathroom or the living room to relieve myself, imagining it was Katniss’ lips instead of my hands.

Then I try to put off the shame that overcomes me that I still fantasized about a woman who is not my wife. 

I miss the sex that somehow became forgotten along the way ever since Delly is in full-time mommy-mode. She loves being a mom, she loves our child to death, even though she is on her last legs because she has not slept through a full night. I can see it all in the many hours I am awake or on baby duty. She pretends to be okay and won’t let me help and support her any more than I already do. I’m about to give up trying to convince her.

Part of it is her unwillingness to accept any help. Maybe it’s because we had to go through so much to finally become parents that she has difficulty letting loose. She wants to prove that she - or we - can take care of Hope on our own. To whom I do not know.

I am the only babysitter she has accepted without a fuss, and that for only a small timeframe. Sometimes it feels like she does not even trust me with Hope and that hurts. On those occasions I feel like the love we once shared is all forgotten on her part. But then her mood swings and she is all sweet again, happy to see me, kissing me, making me think that the doubts I have on those other days are unjustified, at least for the moment.

The fact that her mother is looking after Hope now took two weeks of hard convincing for both of us. The argument only ended today before we left when her mother, understandably sour, snapped that she raised two children of her own and that she most certainly did not need the instructions Delly had written down for her.

And still I’m not sure if we will be at Madge’s birthday party for longer than two or maybe three hours if I am lucky.

It’s like an obsession, she cares so much for our precious baby that she is like an overbearing mother hen. And not letting loose is not doing her any good. Or our marriage, for that matter. We have fought before, but except for one time prior to my first time with Katniss, it was nothing compared to what we do now. I have been trying hard to be objective, but no matter what I say or how I say it, everything I do she interprets as me blaming her.

Her nerves are raw and so are mine. And that’s how ugly our fights get, little to no objectivity and a lot of accusations, just and unjust alike. From both sides I’ll admit. It’s not helping that she is ridiculously picky with what she buys and what she allows or rather doesn’t our child after reading numerous discussions about pretty normal stuff in some internet forums full of eco and happy-go-veggie moms who know everything better than pediatricians. Every objection I had was countered with an icy glare so I have given up.

Delly wants to do her best and she is trying so hard- sometimes perhaps too hard- and she still feels like she is failing to make Hope happy. So do I. Hope is no easy child. She cries a lot for reasons that neither I nor Delly have a clue about. She has been at the doctors’ but with no result. Hope is as healthy as a child can be. She wants to be entertained constantly when she is awake and Delly cannot even leave her alone for a minute to go to bathroom without her starting to wail.

But simply letting her cry, as suggested by my mom, is nothing I’d even consider. It’s the small moments when she is smiling widely at us or reaching out for me with her chubby hands that makes my heart burst with pride and joy and I recognize that no matter how tough life is, being a father is the best experience I’ve ever had in my life. That there is this one human being more important to me than myself and that is Hope.

I know Delly feels like that too. When I come home Delly hands the baby to me and needs her alone time. I understand that, I really do, but Delly does not see that I also need a few minutes rest after coming home from hours of work. That’s something she selfishly chooses to ignore. All she sees is herself and I cannot even blame her.

I understand how exhausting entertaining my daughter all day long is, especially on her bad days when she does not nap and calm down regardless of all singing and cuddling Delly’s been doing. Nonetheless it’s unfair.

Still I try to come home on time every day and always come home early when Dell calls me, because I feel my wife is close to the verge of breaking. She accuses me of not supporting her enough and that I am doing nothing to help her and I let her shout on me until I cannot take it anymore. Every time I tell myself that venting might help her, but it never does. I feel like I am no longer Delly’s shoulder to cry on; I am the person to scream at in frustration. 

And I am worried Hope feels the constant tension between us. It seems like she reacts to us- to our raw nerves and our anger towards each other. As much as I wish I could control myself better, I cannot. Not anymore. And having no time to recharge our batteries is only causing everything boil inside of us.

So my hopes are high for this evening, to maybe feel like a couple again, to do something coupley for the first time in months, to finally feel like something other than a parent. I am trying my best to relax, but I sense that, while Delly may be next to me physically, her thoughts are at home. Her gaze is pointed somewhere ahead of us and she has that distant look like she always does while pondering. She is pressing her purse against her stomach tightly- another tell-tale sign that she is uneasy.

“Darling, hey.” I gently nudge her arm to get her attention when we arrive.

She closes her eyes for a second and looks a bit bewildered.”Wha ... oh sorry.” 

”We’re here,” I state the obvious, feeling dumb for doing so, but I don’t know what else to say.

”Evidently. “ Her lips curl upwards, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes-it seldom does recently. Sleep deprivation has taken its toll. Apart from the bags under her eyes their sparkle is gone too, replaced by something that is hard to define, but fatigue is part of it. I wonder when that started and why I’ve only noticed it now.

She doesn’t really look at me, more like past me. I watch her getting out of the car in a swift move, admiring her figure in the pale green dress she also wore on our five year anniversary. She’s a bit curvier than before but she still looks fantastic, even wearing her wheat blonde hair in the ponytail that has become habit since Hope. Something is off about her, but I assume that is part of her distress about being away from Hope for the first time. Or maybe the argument with her mother is still keeping her mind occupied.

She does not wait for me until she arrives at the door and glances at me impatiently as I still fiddle with the car keys. As if arriving one minute earlier means leaving one minute earlier allowing her to get home to Hope sooner.

I am frantically trying to think of something to say to her while we wait at the door, I am afraid of the silence, of the palpable tension that seems to stick to us. Slowly, oh so slowly, the door opens and saves us from being with ourselves.

”You made it!” Madge hugs us, overjoyed, and Delly reluctantly accepts the gesture. Madge’s grin matches that of her husband. ”I’m so happy you made it!”

”So are we,” Delly responds sweetly. It’s true. We have abandoned them for months, too pre-occupied with our family to manage anything else. Whether or not her best friend since college notices the lie, is not something I have time to think about, because Gale is pulling me into a hug. It feels so foreign now.

“It’s good to see you man, Madge was worried,” he murmurs into my ear so neither woman can overhear. We stride a bit aside for “man talk”, like Gale tells his wife and mine and winks at her suggestively. Delly bites her bottom lip in protest, but yet she says nothing.

“We are getting by”, I state answering Gale’s unasked question, not knowing how much I should tell him. Sure it might help because his wife is good friends with Delly and may have some influence on her, but I don’t feel comfortable to laying bare all of our problems. 

I am still trying to figure that out when I spot her. I know it’s her. I know that signature braid and the black dress because I happen to have it peeled off her. I also remember that one particular time she wore a lacy black thong underneath, I remember the smell of her mint shampoo. Fuck. Just the memory of it is enough to make my imagination go wild with what’s underneath that dress today.

She is talking to a beau of some sort and apparently they know each other well. I scold myself before I can think ‘too well,’ but then she gives him a peck on the lips. I gulp. I have no right to be upset.

“Everything okay?” As oblivious as Gale often is regarding people’s feelings if they’re not laid before him on a silver platter, he is attentive when it comes to sudden change of body language- a perk of having stalked deer in his youth I think. I am pretty sure I have given myself away somehow. I take a moment to compose myself before I smoothly lie, “Oh sure, I just thought ... I mistook the lady over there for an old college friend at first. The resemblance is striking, but she is obviously far too young.”

He turns his head. “Oh, you must mean Catnip, I-

Just to be on the safe side, I interrupt him before he can offer something so awkward as to introduce us. “Well if that’s her name,” I shrug nonchalantly. There is no way I am going to acknowledge her publicly in any way and neither will she. That’s one of the rules we agreed on when we had our affair so that neither of us would have to remember all the made up untruths about all the wheres and whats. And furthermore it looks less suspicious. It’s as simple as that. But neither of us really thought an unexpected meeting was likely to happen. Our lives were at different stages and we did not live in the same neighborhood, nor did we have mutual friends. Or so we thought, it seems.

And right now I’m not sure which option is the preferable one. Seeing her again like I wished in some nights, knowing now she is happy and having moved on with a new _boyfriend_ (or whoever that guy is) like I wanted her to. Or not seeing that person again, that I care so deeply for that sometimes it takes all I have in me not to give in to my own wishes. After all I have loved her until I tried to bury those feelings deep inside to forget. I have hurt us both enough for a lifetime. 

“Peeeeeeta?” I blink as Gale waves one hand in front of me and snap back to reality, momentarily confused.

“Sorry, it must be the fatigue,” I mumble apologetically, embarrassed that my mind had drifted off again. I need to be more careful.

“I see.” His eyebrow is still raised, but fortunately he doesn’t question my statement as I certainly would have in his position.

“What were you saying?”

“If we can help you somehow, let us know. Madge is deeply worried about Dell and you don’t look in the pink either.” Though he is murmuring to not be overheard, there is a lot of reassuring confidence in his tone- it is almost soothing.

“Get one yourself and we’ll talk again. Especially when the child figures out how to turn around and nothing within arm’s reach is safe anymore,” I joke, though I don’t really feel like it. My chuckle sounds convincing to me and even Gale seems to loosen up a bit, maybe I’m getting as good at acting as Delly.

“Peeta, damn, I’m serious.” 

I can see how concerned he is so I sigh, “Hope is still waking up every few hours and, well, you have witnessed how she is, so neither of us is getting much spare time. Plus it’s our first time being away from her, you can imagine the turmoil inside my wife. I wouldn’t be surprised if she already hadn’t called to make sure everything is alright.”

“You know, we would be happy to baby-sit our god-child anytime,” he assures grimly. “If you need us, just call.” I _know_ that. It’s not that I hadn’t contemplated that more than once actually, but Delly is totally another story. 

Not wanting to admit it, all I say is, “Thank you.” And I mean it.

“Beer?” That’s just how Gale is, one moment all serious and the next one he can brush it off like it was nothing. It’s something I have always admired and hated at the same time. But I make out that his coolness betrays his true feelings- that he is still worried, but respects that I am uncomfortable with it right now. Yet it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. I am grateful for that.

“Uh, sure.” It’s not like Delly can drink anyway as long as she is still breast-feeding. So I do what I came here for. I try to socialize, catch up on everything that happened, chat with acquaintances and friends. A lot of them I haven’t seen in a while- since the day before it went wrong and Delly had the C-section. The day after Gale’s birthday last year, to be precise. The more time passes, the less I think about home. I can literally feel the tension dwindling, it feels good to be myself again, to be only Peeta.

But actually the only thing I do is avoiding my elephant in the room. She has noticed me too. I caught her looking at me, wondering sincerely once and if she had been as surprised as me. If she had, she hadn’t shown it. But she had given me the tiniest wink that I interpreted to mean that despite the circumstances she was happy to see me too. And for all I shouldn’t care, that was the biggest relief of all. Then she broke the spell and went off to where I couldn’t see her any longer and a pinch of regret flooded through me.

“It’s not that I don’t...” I never hear what Thom says, because Delly all of a sudden chooses that exact moment to come over and positions herself in front of me with a fierce and determined sparkle in her eyes like I haven’t seen in a long time. Then she raises herself on her toes and gives me a bold kiss that I have no time to return. It all happens so fast. 

Then she stands by my side and I feel her cold fingers sneaking around my waist as does mine around hers automatically in reply. Old habits die hard. To say I’m astonished is an understatement, but no matter how I feel about it, I’ll give in. As I always do. 

“Sorry Thom,” I apologize. He seems to be a bit uncomfortable due to my wife’s sudden interruption. If I am honest, he looks exactly how I feel inside.

“Everything alright?” he asks her. Obviously he finds her behavior as strange as I do. Normally she is sweeter, minds her manners and most likely leaves it to a small kiss on the lips. She never was one to display too much even around our friends and family, which makes it all the more suspicious. 

“Everything’s fine.” I suppress a sigh. Her voice is so sugary, just one bit over the top, but Thom won’t notice. He cannot know all the meanings of her different tones that I’ve only learned over the years, some only due to painful experiences. There’s more to her sweet, often bubbly tone than people realize. In fact, it's a cover she wears in public, one she has perfected over the years. No matter what she feels like in the inside, you won’t know from the outside. “I just missed my husband.” It’s been a long time since she has said anything close to cheesy like this. It’s been a long time since I did that too.

I look at her trying to figure out what this is actually about and her blue eyes look back inquiringly. I’m looking for any sign that proves to me she meant what she did, that this is not an act. There is no tenderness in her features, no smile. We stare at each other. Long moments pass in which a palpable tension between us is creeping back in and we’re both expecting the other to start first. It’s like the weight that was lifted is thrown back on my shoulders at once with full force.

“What?” she finally asks almost angrily. Or is it annoyed? It’s hard to tell.

Thom who had been shifting on his feet, coughs and excuses himself hastily. I wish I could escape as easily as him, but instead I have a wife who is bothered by something and simply expects me to know why. I am so tired of this game.

“What’s wrong, love?” I ask her and try to sound neutral, but these days it is hard not to get wound up when she is being weird for reasons that I don’t see.

“I don’t like the way that woman over there is checking you out.” This is so absurd. For a moment I am stunned before I start laughing out of relief that for once it wasn’t about anything I have done wrong in her eyes. This was clearly not what I would have ever expected.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m serious!” For a split second, her guard goes down and I see hurt and insecurity in her eyes and again guilt creeps in for doing her wrong all along by feeling unloved. So I pull her in for a hug, envelop her in my arms and rest my head on hers like I haven’t done in a long while. Her warm hands crumple my shirt. I don’t want another fight today, so I’m ready to say everything she wants to hear, even if sometimes the truth needs to be twisted.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. I know it’s harder for you than for me to being away from Hope.” 

“She has been ogling you all evening,” she whispers. She sounds like a child who wants to be assured that it’s loved by its parents. Even though a small part of me selfishly hopes that she is talking about Katniss. 

My answer comes easily, almost too easily. It feels like a lie when I respond, “And guess what? I don’t care. I have a beautiful, stunning wife by my side.” I almost add _‘whom I love’_ but something in me refuses to speak those meaningful words out loud now, though she certainly wished to hear that. I can feel her mouth open, but I peck her lips to silence her. 

“Don’t. Despite what you think, you _are_ beautiful, radiant even. If you only looked around you would notice how some men looked at you when you came over. Or when Johanna said she would still love to be getting laid by you.” I try to ease her and the truth makes the corner of her mouth lift up a bit, perhaps the first genuine smile this evening. She peeks over my shoulder and I bite back a sigh as my hands trail slowly up and down her back comfortingly.

“She is staring at us, or rather at you again,” she murmurs, now sounding more annoyed. When she is on that warpath, she won’t let go. In a desperate attempt, I try though and turn us around and whisper back, “See, now she is staring at you.” 

I dare to look over her to see whom she is talking about and it is Katniss indeed. For a moment her grey eyes meet mine. I read pity in them, and I’d like to think also regret, but it’s hard to tell from the distance. I try a small smile for her to tell her I’m okay, but then the small moment is gone when Delly gets me back to reality.

“Can’t you be serious for once?” she accuses. Accuses, not asks. That’s the last drop. As if this was entirely my fault! I untangle myself from her and take a step back.

“What do you expect, Delly? That I go over and tell her to back off? Because I as sure as hell won’t. It feels goddamn good to be desired for once by someone- and not only out of fucked up jealousy like you do now,” I spit breathlessly and catch myself mid-way in the motion to rub my neck and put my hand back down, willing it to lay stiff by my side. I won’t back down. This is not what I wanted, but I can’t help myself.

My voice is bare of any emotions when I continue, “I’m sorry that I am not good enough for you, that I am no comfort or help to you. I’m sorry I suck as a husband and father. Fuck, go blame it all on me like you always do, if you feel better with that. If you don’t trust me, fine, I don’t have the strength to fight. Not again and not anymore.” And the truth of my words buried deep in me for so long sinks into my consciousness as I speak them out aloud for the first time. 

“Peeta, I...” Evidently she has realized that she had gone too far this time and I feel her hand on my forearm, but I am not willing to give in yet.

“So, just leave it Delly. Just leave me the hell alone for a minute!” What should have been commanding, is without any emotions. I feel like my life bubble just burst and suddenly, I am only tired.

I brush her hand off and with the last willpower I still have in me I head determinedly to the porch before I sit down, lean back on the garden swing, and sway back and forth slowly. I’m all by myself. 

My eyes wander restlessly across the backyard to clear my head, taking in all the details to keep me from thinking about the argument we just had. I think back to the many times we sat here with our friends.

We’ve had a lot of fun times with Madge and Gale, teasing Leevy about her constantly changing boyfriends, nursing a single bottle of wine as neither of us drinks much anymore. Those times were long gone even then. I can almost smell the smoke from our monthly barbecues, the smell of cooking meat lingering in the air. It seems like a lifetime ago. My view finally sticks to small patches of yellow.

Among other weeds, dandelions have stubbornly raised their heads between the cobblestones. Soon they will all be blow-balls and gone with the wind. Everything changes.

I never thought it possible to be so full of everything and so hollow at the same time, yet this is how I feel now, full and hollow.

The vibration in my pocket interrupts my train of thought, but I chose to ignore it until it happens a second time only half a minute later. So I give up my resistance to read the messages. 

_You okay?_

I haven’t forgotten we decided to cut our ties but please know that I am still there to talk if you need a friend.

A creaking of the wood spares me to have to make the decision whether to text her back. I would love to, but I’m too confused to know if that would be wise, especially for me. I am not sure if I could let her walk out of my life a second time. That is if I even let her in again. Having gone through it once was enough. Hastily I shove the cell back into my pocket when a footfall tells me someone is approaching.

”Well, that escalated quickly,” Gale states.

“It’s been coming for some time. Sometimes it gets to be too much, she gets to be too much,” I finally confess. “It feels like no matter what I do it is wrong, as if I had to prove my worth to her constantly. She questions my actions, she questions my love, just about everything. And it gets harder and harder to tolerate.” It feels good to get it off my chest right now that I don’t even know why I thought it good to hold it back for so long.

“I cannot say I am surprised that things haven’t been smooth, but I did not know things have been that bad between the two of you.” There is no judgment in Gale’s voice and I am thankful for that. Maybe he understands me better than I initially gave him credit for. The swing dips under the added weight as he sits down beside me.

”I knew when I became a father that nothing was going to be the same again, but no one told me it would be this hard.”

It’s all I say for a long while as we sit in silence, me staring at the dandelions, Gale nursing his beer while keeping me company. It’s like a pathetic scene from one of the rom com movies that Delly makes me watch with her so often. Or rather made. I cannot remember the last time we watched a movie together. I feel Gale sneak glances to me once in a while, but he says no more until he decides to head back in and I am thankful for that silent support.

”You coming back in?” I shake my head no.

“Not yet. But thanks for keeping me company.” I’m not ready to face my wife, I want to make sure she has calmed down before we talk it over and if I am honest, I don’t mind being alone right now. Gale pats my shoulder in a bit of a helpless manner, but it does feel good. I don’t know whether it’s meant comfortingly or encouragingly, but either way, it offers me sympathy and understanding which is more than I could have expected.

“Madge tries to talk some sense into Delly,” he assures me and I am relieved.

“Sorry to have ruined her birthday party,” I apologize lamely.

“It’s okay,” he answers. But it’s not. I know that and of course he knows it, too. There is just nothing I can and want to do about it just now. I wait till hear the door being shut, then I close my eyes and listen to my own breathing. In and out. In and out.

I lose track of time so I don’t know how much time has passed when I eventually hear the door open again. It might be minutes, it might have been an hour. I know it’s Delly without turning around before I hear her voice saying timidly, “I’m sorry, Peeta.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

She steps in front of me but keeps her distance. Her eyes are red and swollen, with most of her mascara gone too, her blond eyelashes give her an unhealthy appearance and I cannot help but feel guilty about it.

“Me too.” A frustrated sigh escapes me as I stare at a small dandelion leaf next to her feet that has somehow found its way through the slim gap in between the cobblestones.

“You shouldn’t. It’s been my fault.” A whisper is all that comes out and I can tell that admitting this is hard for her, because for once she has no other choice but to see reason. People saw what happened, so the situation is not only to her interpretation like it is at home.

“I know.” I pat with my left hand onto the cushion. I feel the swing slowly dip under her weight as she carefully sits down at the other side of the cushion one foot away from me. She is slumped into herself as though wishes to be anywhere but here, and I cannot say I don’t feel the same way. We don’t face each other, but our bodies are close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off her. I could reach out to her for comfort if I wanted to. I don’t.

“What has happened to _us_ , Peeta?” She finally breaks the silence, her words scarcely audible as if she was afraid of the answer and perhaps she is. I’ve never talked to her the way I did today. But she never really gave me reason to before.

“ _Us_ got lost along the way.” I look at her and wait and it takes half a minute until she dares to train her eyes on my face. Her bottom lip trembles. She is scared and vulnerable like I haven’t seen her since the day her father died three years ago.

I take a pity on her and offer my hand in peace which she hesitantly accepts and intertwines her fingers with mine.

“I love you,” she says and for once it is me who does not say it back. I can feel that she wants me to, but I cannot bring those precious words over my lips. Not now. I look back to the patch of dandelions again.

“Let’s go home,” I suggest quietly after a minute of awkward silence. I still can’t look at her.

We only say goodbye to Madge and Gale and I promise to call them tomorrow. With all that’s happened, I don’t think I can apologize now, not the way they deserve. I am so sorry for everything that I cannot put it into words yet. I just want to go home. 

I catch a glimpse of Katniss on our way out while she is talking to the same guy that I assume to be her new boyfriend. In that short moment I register that she is fiddling with the end of her braid. I once did too, though it feels like years ago. I pull Delly closer to me as if to remind myself that I made my choice long ago and will have to stick to it. She and I will work this out. We always have and we always will, no matter how tough it is. So I tell myself. It is the first time that I think I may be lying to myself.

With the bit of assurance I gave her with that small action, my wife doesn’t let go of me the entire way, clings to me as if I was going away if she let go for one single moment. After all, I’ve got what I wished for these last months, but I cannot get rid of the feeling that she is still acting out of jealousy- not because she wants it as in _she wants me_. More like the possibility finally hit her that if she doesn’t stop treating me like this, she could lose me. That there is only so much that I endure for her. And also that I am attractive to other woman.

And with that seed of doubt planted deep inside of me, it is hard to forget about it.

We quickly say goodbye to her mom who obviously senses something is wrong with the two of us. We head straight to bed because there is nothing more we want to say or do tonight. Or so I think. When I lay down on my side, as far away as possible from hers, I am surprised that Delly rolls over to me after having breast-fed and put Hope back to sleep. She kisses me softly, probing, testing the waters and I reply automatically. 

The sad thing is that now, for once, I am not in the mood, yet I don’t dare to let her down either. It doesn’t take much to imagine vividly how that would end and I’ve had more than my fair share of drama for today. So I let her. As I always do.

I let her kiss me, I let her go down on me. I respond to her actions or rather my body does. Grunts escape me, when her hands pump up and down my shaft, when she torturously slowly trails her tongue around the head.

I can feel how much effort she puts into her every action to make me feel good. But the effort doesn’t come naturally. 

I pull her up to me trying to roll over to return the favor, but she stops me and hides that with sweet kisses along my jaw, probably thinking I won’t notice. But I do.

And then she mounts me, guiding my dick with her hands into her. Heaven, how I missed that. She slowly rides up and down and I lose myself in her. My hands wander to her hips to guide her movements, to make her go faster, but she keeps on with her pace. A short squeal from Hope makes us halt both and we share a small knowing chuckle, but our daughter doesn’t seem to be awake and so Delly moves on. I let go and I moan deeply when she raises her body and sinks down again slowly until I come. 

My hand sneaks down from her waist to her folds, but instead she takes my hands and weaves her fingers with mine again, then she leans forward and kisses me long and softly. The kind of kisses we always share afterwards. With one last peck she kisses me goodnight, leaving me as irritated as before as she curls herself to my chest. Soon her calm breathes tell me she has dozed off.

Despite being tired, I am restless, something feels off. My mind cannot stop spinning around as much as I want it to shut up and I relive the evening again and again. I can hardly lie still, but I try as best I can. I barely register Delly rolling away from me, only the cool breeze on the warm spot tells me she left. 

My mind is starting to get drowsier bit by bit when all of a sudden a thought hits me and I am suddenly wide awake again. Why it felt so weird. Had she made any sounds at all? Anything that tells me she enjoyed it? I cannot remember and in the darkness I hadn’t seen her face.

Apart from being inside her, I had barely touched her. She hadn’t allowed it- in fact, she even prevented it. Like she had taken my hands in hers every time I was about to do something. Everything I did was under her control. And she did not come, though it normally isn’t that hard to bring her to that point. Maybe I’m overthinking, considering the whole bunch of events today, yet the way she had possessively taken over, it felt like …

Like she used me. Claimed me. Was that still a reaction to Katniss this evening- something to prove to herself or did she really want it? I look at the darkness to my right where I know she must be. She’s asleep peacefully from what I can tell by the soft sounds. I’ve known her for years, knew her inside and out. Honesty is one of the traits she always treasured the most.

I tell myself that Delly would never do something as childishly possessive and hurtful just to please me. I refuse to believe she is that calculating. She always trusted me as I did her. Yet she had also never acted like _that_ before and despite what my mind tells me, that bitter taste in my mouth lingers.

I cannot shake off the thoughts about the first time we’ve had in a year. It shouldn’t have been like that. It feels wrong now, and despite what I keep telling myself it proves to be that event that is the water the little seed of doubt needs to grow.

**Author's Note:**

> This events needed to happen first before anything Everlark, but I swear Everlark is still endgame! Which means, yes, there will be a third and final part some time this year. 
> 
> Tumblr will know first when it's done or at least in the process, so you may follow me for news (vondervogelweide).


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